Not Probable
by flitchoftherivers
Summary: JackWill. Jack dies, but it isn't the end of all things...he's transported into Will's body instead. (Note that rating will probably go up in the future.) Feedback welcome and relished. I need to know if the humor works as I always have trouble with i


Even on the best days--and they were rare--Cape Horn was not a pleasant place to be on a ship. The two oceans that met there carried on as if they'd been dying to get a swipe at each other all down the length of the Americas, and would now wreak havoc unforeseen upon each other and anyone foolish enough to be in the immediate vicinity.  
  
Multiply that discomfort by the snarling arctic winds and the hiss of enemy cannonballs as they fly through the air, and you've got yourself a floating hell.  
  
Not that Captain Jack Sparrow was admitting any of this to himself as he wrestled the wheel of the Black Pearl, bawling out orders and curses with equal generosity.  
  
"Captain, we've lost the mainsail!" came a cry at his ear that, though bellowed, barely managed to make itself heard over the roar of the winds and waves.  
  
"Thank you, Anamaria, for you astute observation," Jack replied, rolling his eyes and giving a hearty haul at the tiller. "I don't know what I'd do without you."  
  
"You fool! You're going to get us killed!" his saucy female shipmate snapped, removing a hand from her coat to slap him, then reconsidering and thrusting it back in. The winds were bitter.  
  
"My dear Anamaria, you have no faith!" Jack yelled over the gale, wincing as with a splintering crash of timbers his foresail ripped away from the ship to plummet into the stormy depths below.  
  
"Faith? Faith?" Anamaria shrilled, ducking as an errant cannonball flew over both their heads. "Since when did Captain Jack sparrow need faith?"  
  
Frowning, Jack made a dismissive gesture with one heavily-ringed hand. "Not that kind, darling. I mean the kind that--"  
  
But Anamaria never did get to find out just what kind of faith Jack meant, for at that moment a not-so-errant cannonball flew, not overhead, but into Jack's middle, causing the celebrated captain to hurtle through the railing with somewhat less style than his usual drunken grace allowed, and into the dark brine at the meeting of the seas.  
  
* * * *  
  
"...and then Father said...Will? Will, are you even listening to me?"  
  
Will blinked and looked up from the bed of overcooked lentils he'd been trying to convince himself to eat. "What? Yes, yes, of course. Do go on."  
  
Elizabeth frowned at him a moment, tossed her pretty head, and resumed, "Now, as I was saying, Father said the most charming thing the other day..."  
  
Will nodded and smiled at appropriate intervals and wondered when Elizabeth's throat would grow tired enough to end dinner, at which point he could escape to the nearest tavern and get some real food.  
  
He wondered, too, if perhaps the metal he'd been working with that day had some nasty impurities in it, because the headache that was now threatening to cleave his skull in two had been building all day.  
  
"...silk prices in Antigua, a remarkable prize, really..."  
  
The lentils on Will's plate--the whole table, really--swam sickeningly before him, and Will tried to think of anvils; beaches; anything steady enough to anchor his pitching vision.  
  
"...promised me it was as true as the ship she sailed on, she did..."  
  
What in god's name is wrong with me? Will thought frantically, for now in addition to his mind-shattering headache and doubtful vision, he was getting an absurd stirring in his trousers. This is insane. He truly had to get some air.  
  
"...and then there were the curtains, oh, the curtains! Anne told me..."  
  
Will risked a quick glance at Elizabeth and felt his excitement level actually slip down a notch, to his horror. It was only when he inspected his slowly-revolving (and quite untouched) wineglass and caught his reflection in it that he felt a surge that was almost painful, exquisitely so, and a sudden jarring of the room that sent pain lancing through his head like hot irons.  
  
::My, my. And I worried that you were a eunuch.::  
  
Will made a strangled sound in his throat and whipped around toward Elizabeth so fast it hurt. Not that that was a surprise, really.  
  
"What did you say?" he choked.  
  
Elizabeth resembled a deer startled from grazing. "That...there's a shipment of cashmere coming in...from London?"  
  
"No, no, the eunuch part."  
  
"Eunuch...part?" Elizabeth gaped at him.  
  
"Yes!" Will cried, near the breaking point what with the pain in his skull and the ache in his groin. "You said you were worried that I was a eunuch! 'My, my.' Like it surprised you!"  
  
"Will, are you feeling all right?" Elizabeth began inching up out of her seat, and stared so hard at Will that he turned around, half-expecting to see a crazed man standing there with a sword drawn.  
  
::The only sword drawn here is the one in your britches, lad, and I'd appreciate it if you did something about it. Savvy?::  
  
Will wheeled around, knocking over his chair in the process. "Who said that?" he demanded, because it could not possibly be who he thought it was.  
  
::Think again, luv.::  
  
"Arrrgh!"  
  
Elizabeth, who had paused in the doorway to the kitchen with knife in hand, now fled at Will's scream, offering up one of her own for him to compete with.  
  
Meanwhile, Will kept turning round and round, hand reaching for a saber he didn't have.  
  
::I keep telling you, boy, a little to the left! Forget the fencing and give yourself a little relief!::  
  
"Who are you?" Will bellowed. "Where are you?"  
  
::Come now, don't you recognize me?::  
  
"Jack?" Will faltered, peering from corner to corner. "Jack Sparrow?"  
  
::Captain, Captain Jack Sparrow! You'd think, wouldn't you, that after all this time you'd get it right...::  
  
"Jack, where are you?"  
  
::Right here, luv. Now I don't suppose you'd have any rum in this house of yours, would you?::  
  
I must be going mad, thought Will. I was sure I heard Jack just now.  
  
::That's because you did, mate. A quick one, now, aren't we?::  
  
"I didn't say anything!" Will howled, and flung open the door that lead out onto the street. People stopped and stared at the madman clutching his face in the doorway.  
  
::Like as not, I heard it just the same. Now how about that rum?::  
  
"Get...out...of my...head!" screamed Will, and so saying he ran down the street toward the gates of the city, clawing at his cranium all the while.  
  
* * * *  
  
It was only after Will had been staring at his reflection in a tidepool a long while that he heard the voice again.  
  
::You're right to stare, you know.::  
  
"Shut up," Will spoke aloud.  
  
::Oh come on, you know you missed me.::  
  
Will balled his hands into fists.  
  
"You don't exist."  
  
::Actually, you're only half right. I had a bit of a run-in with a canon, but you're obviously spending the evening in pleasant conversation with someone, eh?::  
  
Will glanced sharply around, face a study of pain. "Jack Sparrow's dead?"  
  
::Ah now, you care! I'm flattered. But now, I didn't say that, did I?::  
  
"You're lying," Will said flatly. "Captain Jack Sparrow would never let himself fall to mere cannonfire. You obviously don't know him...as I do."  
  
And for the first time, Will felt more than just a voice in his head--he felt a presence, an outpouring of raw emotion that was entirely not his own, and which colored his face pink from his ghost of a beard to the roots of his hair.  
  
But the voice only said, after a moment, ::I'd really enjoy some of that rum we mentioned right about now.::  
  
* * * *  
  
The stars lay low in the east, fading fast as dawn broke, and Will Turner lay low in the sandy, safe haven of a clump of magnolias, eyes closed, hands clasped on his chest. Just thinking.  
  
::Get some sleep, lad.::  
  
Will smiled; he could almost see Jack saying those very words...standing before him, the sunlight picking out the silver among the dross in his hair...  
  
::Come on now, you're embarrassing me!::  
  
Will felt it. I am, am I? he thought with a wry inner smile.  
  
::You're getting better at this, I'll give you that. Now why don't you call it a day--a night, even, and give yourself a rest?::  
  
Give you a rest, too, you mean.  
  
Stony silence greeted Will's mental prod.  
  
Can't you rest when I'm conscious?  
  
::How should I know? You aren't exactly the Pearl.::  
  
Try.  
  
And Jack did. Will sense it immediately--not an absence, exactly, but a withdrawal; a dormancy. It was as if the corner of his mind that Jack occupied had folded itself up into a neat little ball, quiet and out of the way.  
  
So unlike Jack.  
  
Jack! Will thought frantically. "Jack!" He didn't even know he called aloud. "Captain Jack Sparrow, where are you--"  
  
::I'm right bloody here, boy!:: A distinct air of annoyance blossomed in Will's brain as the corner that was Jack unfolded--or, more accurately, exploded onto Will's senses. ::Will you let me catch even a moment's sleep, young master William, or will I have to close your eyes for you?::  
  
Will raised his eyebrows. You can do that?  
  
::Well, I don't know. We'll have to try now, won't we?::  
  
And with a sudden jolt of panic Will felt control of his eyelids slip from him, before he could even put up a fight for it. His eyes slammed shut, plunging him into darkness.  
  
Jack! Give me some warning next time, will you?  
  
::How much more warning can you get, mate?:: All the same, Will felt in possession of his eyes again, and he blinked a few times just to be sure.  
  
It's just startling is all, Will thought in apology. But Jack had already tucked himself away to sleep again, leaving Will with little else to do but take the same path.  
  
Sleeping like a baby, Will thought, and a derisive snort from Jack's corner made him drift off with a smile on his lips. 


End file.
